Vacation at Base 12
by kate98
Summary: Since two days leave on Earth would take twenty days of traveling, they were on the mainland pretending it was Spring Break in Florida. Rodney wanted to go home. A story in 12 drabbles


_A/N:_ It's important to note that this story consists of twelve individual 100 word drabbles (thus, "base 12" – math joke). If it jumps a bit, that's why.  
_Acknowledgments:_ Sincere thanks to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain and Daisycm83 for the beta and encouragement. This was written for the GateHaven Summer Vacation Challenge at livejournal.  
_Disclaimer: As Sgt. Shultz would say, I own nothing! Nothing! _

* * *

**Vacation at Base 12**

1.

"I don't know how many more ways I can say this, Colonel. I am just not going. I am staying here. I won't budge, and you can't make me. Go without me. Is that clear enough?"

John hated it when Rodney got like this. He might as well be stomping his foot and threatening to hold his breath until he turned blue.

Cadman tapped Sheppard on the shoulder. "Colonel, some of the Europeans on the roster for the first trip are asking if the beach is clothing-optional."

John cocked an eyebrow at Rodney, who sighed deeply. "Fine. I'll go pack."

2.

John resisted the urge to growl. Clearly, he needed this vacation. "McKay, you are not bringing a laptop. That defeats the purpose."

Rodney hugged the case closer to his body, as a mother might protect a child. "I just have a few things I need to take care of."

"Don't make me get Elizabeth down here, Rodney." John knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it was an error in judgment. Rodney's chin jutted out defiantly.

Teyla wisely attempted to appeal to his logic. "Will it not be damaged by the sand?"

Rodney's shoulders slumped in resignation.

3.

When they reached the mainland, Rodney didn't know what to do with himself. He wandered past the group setting up tents, past the Marines digging a barbeque pit, over to another jumper where several scientists were clustered.

Simpson seemed to be organizing the group. "I've got the cooling element and the copper tubing, but we are going to have to contrive some kind of housing."

"What is it you're building?" Rodney asked.

"A refrigeration unit." Inside the jumper, two wooden barrels of Athosian ale took up a large part of the rear storage. "We're hosting an intergalactic kegger down here!"

4.

"It just figures you'd find some kind of project to do." John leaned on the keg, watching him with amusement.

Rodney didn't look up from his work. "Yes, well, designing a beer tap isn't quite the same level of complexity as repairing a sub-light engine under threat of imminent, painful death. I think this still qualifies as 'taking it easy,' wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose. But you're going to have some fun while you're here, Rodney. That's an order."

Rodney tried not to smile. "Get out of here and let me work, unless you want to drink this swill warm."

5.

The smell wafted over just as Rodney was making the final adjustments to the refrigeration assembly. It wasn't right.

Over the pit, the Marines were roasting the mainland's version of a pig, and the ribs of one of those space bison from PX3-425. The smell was just close enough to real barbeque to make him hungry, but just alien enough to make him lose his appetite.

This whole thing was absurd. Since two days leave on Earth would take twenty days of traveling, they were on the mainland pretending it was Spring Break in Florida.

Rodney wanted to go home.

6.

He found a secluded little spot under the trees and sat down in the sand, resting his elbows on his knees. Around the campsite, people were talking and laughing. A few were already in the water, bobbing up and down with the waves. By the tents, someone had set up a portable stereo and the music was a distant, annoying buzz at the back of his mind. Suddenly, this felt a lot like high school.

Rodney fell back in the sand and closed his eyes. It's not that he didn't know how to have fun. He was just afraid to.

7.

A shadow fell across him, and Rodney opened one eye. The glare of the sun behind Cadman's head gave the odd appearance that she was glowing. "Do you want a hamburger?"

Rodney sat up quickly and eyed the plates in her hands with a blend of suspicion and hope. "What are they made of?"

"Real honest-to-goodness cow. We managed to get a few from the kitchens."

Rodney snatched a plate from her and dug in. Laura rolled her eyes and sat down. "You're welcome," she muttered under her breath.

"This," Rodney blurted out between bites, "is like manna from heaven."

8.

"What are you doing lurking over here by yourself?"

Rodney turned his patented glare on Cadman. "Avoiding stupid questions. _Unsuccessfully_."

"I think you're avoiding _fun._ C'mon, Rodney! It's a party. You can't sit over here by yourself."

"And what do you suggest I do for fun? Go thrash about in the water looking like chum for God-only-knows what kind of aquatic alien beasts? Or worse – make small talk with the ignorant masses, whose collective IQ is probably lower than that of the aquatic alien beasts? No, thank you."

Cadman cocked an eyebrow at Rodney, who sighed deeply. "Fine. Let's go."

9.

"I've had training in structural dynamics, McKay."

"Knowing how to effectively bomb a structure does not mean you can build one, Cadman."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Building is just demolition in reverse. We've totally got this covered. We'll kick their asses."

Rodney couldn't resist the prospect of humiliating an opponent, no matter what kind of competition, but their partnership was not a smooth one. They easily agreed that a rounded structure would have greater stability, but bickered furiously over the form.

In the end, they won the sand sculpture contest with a detailed figure of a giant sea turtle.

10.

"So." John sidled up beside Rodney at the keg. "You and Cadman seem to be getting along well."

Rodney faced him, wide-eyed. "Are you kidding me? We've been doing nothing but fight like–"

"An old married couple?" John interrupted.

Rodney crossed his arms across his chest and glared. "I was going to say cats and dogs." He turned his back on John and began to draw beer from the keg into two mugs. "She's a nightmare. Besides, she's seeing Carson."

He turned to find John rocking back and forth on his heels and grinning. "Are you sure about that?"

11.

"Absolutely not. No. Why don't you go ask…" Rodney eyed the crowd and picked someone unlikely to say no. "Woo? Or Lorne?"

"Nope," Cadman said blithely. "If you won't dance with me, we'll both just stand here quietly twiddling our thumbs." She was quiet for all of two seconds. "Ooh, I know! We can _chat_. Like _girlfriends_."

Rodney refused to allow her to get under his skin. "Good idea. How's Carson?"

"He's fine, I suppose. I wouldn't really know. Rodney, if you don't dance with me, I swear I'm going to tell everyone what I found in your sock drawer."

12.

In the moonlight, Rodney watched people making their way to the tents as the party broke up. Sitting next to him in the sand, Cadman yawned. "Too much dancing," he grumbled.

Cadman laughed and stood up, brushing the sand from her thighs. "Too much Athosian ale. I could still be dancing if you hadn't wimped out early."

"Not all of us have time to run around the city in circles every day. Some of us are busy saving the galaxy."

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "It was a good day."

Rodney was surprised to find that he agreed.


End file.
